


things might get bumpy, but

by exexlovers



Series: favourites of my own work! [1]
Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attraction, Character Development, Declarations Of Love, Dinner, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life, ie: whizzer doesn’t get sick or die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:00:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27906373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exexlovers/pseuds/exexlovers
Summary: 'it was as if marvin had had a complete software rewrite; he was somebody new, somebody softer and kinder. a man that whizzer would not have searched for two and a half years ago, but a man he was lucky to have in current times.'⤷ Whizzer makes dinner and thinks about the geniosity outside of his control.
Relationships: Whizzer Brown/Marvin
Series: favourites of my own work! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058351
Comments: 10
Kudos: 64





	things might get bumpy, but

**Author's Note:**

> recently i’ve been able to look at falsettos with a new maturity. i don’t know if it translates in the writing, but i feel grateful to be able to understand the content the way i’ve become able to. i think one of the best things about writing for one piece of media for an extended period of time - which i’d never done before falsettos - is having the luxury to spend time with these characters, read other people's interpretation of them and getting to use both of those tools to create what i think these characters are like in day-to-day existence. would they leave their dishes to air-dry or would they dry them by hand? in what order would whizzer make a dinner like this? things like that are what make me feel more confident in my writing.
> 
> anyways, enough introspection. i started this fic over a year ago after a twitter friend gave me the idea. it was meant to go somewhere else but it ended up different lol. i don’t know if they have an ao3 or what their twitter user is now (i haven't had twitter for months... its been that long) but thank u for the idea i miss u i hope u see this. oh boy i forgot how much fun it is writing act 2 whizzer
> 
> also. When U Reference Your Own Fic Within A Fic
> 
> \- kit

“Marvin!? Do you know where the blue cutting board is?” Whizzer called down the hall towards the bedroom. 

It had been a hot second since he'd made dinner, and Marvin had been the one who put away the kitchen boxes when they moved in. Whizzer knew the difference between teaspoons and tablespoons. He knew how to cook. But, holy fucking shit, he had no idea where any cooking supplies were in this godforsaken kitchen.

Marvin didn’t reply.

“Doll, please!” Whizzer yelled again.

After waiting through a moment of silence, he groaned and trudged down the hall.

“Marvin, I’m trying to cut up mushrooms. Please tell me where the fucking cutting board is.” he walked into the bedroom, heard fifties-style dance music from the en-suite bathroom, and nudged the door open.

“Hey, do-“ The sight in front of Whizzer’s eyes expelled all air in his lungs.

In Marvin’s hand was an eyeliner pencil. Pointed towards his face. Marvin himself leaned towards the mirror, somehow not making an absolute mess of his eyes. His hair was damp, the toothpaste cap by the sink as if he had just gotten out of the shower.

Whizzer forced himself to inhale. “Marvin. What are you doing?”

He looked over. Recently, he had stopped shaving and started to let his beard grow out. Whizzer didn’t think he would find beards hot, or that he would like kissing stubble all the time, but here they were. The whole beard thing along with the black eyeliner… oh, boy. It was really doing things for him.

Marvin smiled at him. “I was looking for Q-Tips and found your, uh, photography make-up kit stuff and got curious.”

“Uh-huh.” Whizzer cleared his throat. “You look really hot.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. I would make out with you right this second if I didn’t want to burn the chicken.”

Marvin widened his eyes. “You’re _cooking?”_

He shrugged animatedly. “Doesn’t look like you are. I used to make you dinner _every day,_ right?”

“Yeah, but-“

“Anyways! Where’s the blue cutting board?”

Marvin sighed, raised an eyebrow. “Whizzer, it’s in the same drawer as the Tupperware. Bottom drawer to the right of the stove.”

“Thank you. Now, stay here and sit pretty until I’m done.”

Marvin pouted. “Can I at least have a ‘wow, Marvin, you look really hot right now’ kiss?”

Whizzer rolled his eyes, kissed him, and closed the door as he left.

Jesus. Marvin really knew how to keep him on his toes. Which was not a recent revelation, but the thought appeared in his mind from time to time. Questionably-placed spontaneous kisses, waking up as a _grown adult_ to hickeys on his chest, walking into the bathroom to his boyfriend with eyeliner…

He leaned against the door frame of the bedroom, trying to keep his mind from reeling. It had been only a month since they moved in together, meaning it had been a couple of months since they had started dating again. Besides Whizzer’s remedial breakdown a few weeks in - coffee, confessions, and tears - things were great. It was as if Marvin had had a complete software rewrite; he was somebody new, somebody softer and kinder. A man that Whizzer would not have searched for two and a half years ago, but a man he was lucky to have in current times. A man he looked forward to spending the rest of his time on Earth with.

The smell of spices and chicken dispelled him from his thoughts. Whizzer returned to the kitchen, pulled out the scratched and melted cutting board, and got to slicing.

The first time around, Whizzer usually liked eating dinner together. As long as there was no fighting, as long as Whizzer had been punctual and greeted Marvin at the door and kept the apartment clean, dinners were nice. Occasionally they would eat in different rooms, or they wouldn’t look up from their plate the whole time, but more likely they made each other laugh, told stories about their days, enjoyed the food. It made him feel like he had importance, like someone - whether it be Marvin or the consciousness of the universe - saw value in him.

He transitioned to the green beans boiling on the stove.

As a kid, Whizzer’s mom used to tell him that absence made the heart grow fonder. He supposed that was right. Two years and plenty of money spent on therapy helped too, but realizing there was more to intimacy than sex and fighting was something that Whizzer wished had happened sooner in his youth. His relationships would have been so much more satisfying had he listened to the struggles more. There would have been many less hang-ups about who did or didn’t do what if they had just talked for ten minutes.

Something told him that they never could have done that, though. It would have been impossible for him to tell Marvin how he was feeling, how controlled he thought he was, without being blamed or ignored. And Whizzer wouldn’t have even given Marvin’s worries a chance. Maybe that was how it was supposed to be at the time, in order for them to grow and learn and become better people.

Whizzer laughed at himself. Jeez, his love life in the seventies really sucked. 

A pair of arms wrapped around his waist. Marvin pressed a kiss to the side of his neck.

“You lit candles?” he asked, voice soft.

“Mhm.” Whizzer set down his wooden spoon, turned around, and shuffled them away from the stove.

“You’re cute.” Marvin smiled, eyeliner cleaned from his face.

“I know!” He lifted one of Marvin’s hands and spun underneath it. 

Marvin looked at him as he stabilized. Whizzer watched him scan from his mess of hair to his chest. He looked back up to his eyes and smiled, somehow speaking thousands of words and yet none at all.

Whizzer almost said it right there. He almost let the words out of their playpen, almost told Marvin he loved him. 

It had rolled around his mind for a while. He liked saying ‘I love you.’ They hadn’t said the words nearly enough times a few years back. But then, who knew if they were even certain that love, not lust or need, had existed between them.

Whizzer was sure that he was in love. He’d had to build the trust back up, see how Marvin reacted to things, see what he’d done to change before he could even consider _liking_ Marvin. The one thing he knew for certain was that Marvin was different. And for a while, that was enough.

He kind of wanted to say it, though. He wanted to know what would happen.

Concern tightened Marvin’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Whizzer smiled a little. “Nothing at all, honey.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Alright.”

Whizzer kissed him, placed his hands on top of Marvin’s. “I got mushrooms to cook, and then we’ll be ready to eat. ‘Kay?”

“Yeah. Sounds good.” 

Marvin opened the balcony curtains as he walked into the living room. Fall had transitioned into winter; the days were shorter and the sunsets faster this time of year. The dim room was brightened by red candles. The candles themselves were nothing special, just the ones that made residence on their kitchen counters and coffee table. Maybe they were a little kitschy, or had been with Whizzer through a few too many apartment moves, but he didn’t mind. Marvin didn’t seem to either. 

He slid the mushrooms off of the board into the heated pan, with butter and olive oil. He pulled wine glasses out of their cupboard and filled them with their subsequent beverage. They didn’t drink at dinner very often - Whizzer did not want to become a functioning alcoholic, thank you - but sometimes, when he was feeling all sentimental, grateful to be in the here and now… the dusty bottles had the privilege of making an appearance.

“Whizzer?” Marvin called from the living room.

“Hmm?” He turned from plating the food.

“You ever read The Great Gatsby?” He held up the book in representation. “What do you think of Tom and Daisy?”

Whizzer chuckled. “Never read it, but I’ve also never been one for mingling with straight people, so… that’s my answer.” 

Marvin nodded, took notice of Whizzer’s progress in the kitchen. “That checks out. Need any help?”

Whizzer shook his head, trusting Marvin to still be looking in his direction. “You’re welcome to come sit over here, though. I just need a few more seconds.”

Marvin complied, hooking his feet over the legs of the dining chair. 

Oddly enough, mundane conversations were much easier to have while otherwise occupied with wine drinking or food plating. They chatted a bit about the plans in the week ahead, Marvin’s one annoying coworker that stopped by his cubicle - always with the worst timing. Whizzer remarked something about needing new camera equipment as he sat down with the food.

“The quality of the shots are getting a little grainy… Anyways. Thanks for eating with me.”

Marvin twirled his fork in his hand. “Uh, yeah, of course. Thanks for making it. I eat with you every night, what do you mean?”

“Just… been thinking a lot tonight about how happy I am to be here. Thought I would say it out loud to you.”

“Yeah?” Marvin failed to stifle a grin.

“Yeah..."

“Funny… if we were sitting at the dinner table, eating the dinner you made, two years ago? You’d be telling me you wished you were anywhere else.”

Whizzer sipped his wine. “Things changed. You changed. You drive me crazy, but not in the same way that you used to.”

“Yeah, well… I certainly drove Trina crazy.”

“How do you figure?”

Marvin wove his green bean-topped fork around. “Lying to her. Gaslighting her. Jason still sometimes treats me like he doesn’t know me. You know, stuff like that.”

Whizzer nodded. “Yeah, I see.” he carded a hand through his hair. “Hey, do you remember that one morning back in, like, July or something? You were in the kitchen of your old apartment and I came out of the bedroom in the morning and you made me coffee and I told you all the things that I noticed were different about you?”

Marvin sat back, swallowed his food. “Of course. That was June, actually.”

Whizzer laughed at his specificity. “Exactly, yeah. Like, you pay attention to me now. Ask if I need help, if I… I don’t know, it’s like you value my presence.”

“Well, I’m glad you picked that up.” He smiled, eyes sparkling.

“Yeah. Glad we’re not a house of cards anymore.”

Marvin hummed in affirmation. “House of what, now, stone?”

“Mm, well, what’s the strongest material in the world?” Whizzer leaned his chin in his hand.

“Diamonds, isn’t it?”

Whizzer smiled, the idea of promise rings flickering in his mind. “Something like that.”

Marvin smiled back, then turned to his food.

They ate with the company of street chatter and humming refrigerators for a few moments. Whizzer thought about how he loved the way Marvin held his fork - of all things to think about.

He gazed over at the photos and notes pinned to the fridge as he chewed and thought about the little things he loved in his life.

“Whiz?”

He glanced over, leaned his fork against his plate. “Yeah?”

“You’re sure nothing’s wrong?” Marvin pulled up his sleeves.

“‘Course. I just…” Whizzer looked to his wine glass, downed the second half of it. “I love you.”

Marvin froze, blinked as if his brain were a computer rebooting. “You- yeah?”

Whizzer smiled wide. “Yeah. I love you.”

“I love you too, Whizzer.” Marvin reached his hand across the table.

Whizzer took it. “Good. That’s good.”

Marvin didn’t have anything to say. He just raised Whizzer’s hand and kissed it.

Whizzer sighed, like a cat warm in a pile of blankets and an abundance of trust. Of all the hundreds of thousands of years that humans had existed… he was blessed to be in this moment, in this city, in this apartment with his hand in Marvin’s.

“How about a toast?” He held up his glass in his other hand. “To us? To happiness?”

Whizzer took his hand back, chuckling lightly. “There’s nothing in my glass.”

Marvin laughed and gestured towards the bottle. “Well, go get some more!”

He rolled his eyes in spite of his journey to the counter. “God. You’re gonna get me drunk, Marv.”

“That’s the idea!”

Whizzer shook his head. “I know we just said I love you, but I hate you.”

Marvin laughed again. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” He returned to his seat, raised his glass. “To us?”

“To us.” 

They sipped their drinks in solidarity, returned to their dinner. Returned to the rhythm they had come to know.

Whizzer marvelled at the fact that he had his whole world right in front of him, that nothing could take them down. That maybe what people said was his prime really _was_ his prime.

He looked up at Marvin, watched him chew a forkful of chicken. Basked in the domesticity of his life and the blessings he had been gifted.

The universe really knew what it was doing, didn’t it?


End file.
